Love Me Tender (9 page)

Cassidy let her eyes ask the question.

“There was someone. A special someone. When I was studying to be a teacher.”

And she'd carried a torch for almost sixty years? Had she not had sex in that long? The woman was worse than Dave Cousins. Cassidy kept that opinion to herself. “It didn't work out?”

Those sky-blue eyes gazed levelly at her. “Her name was Irene. It was the nineteen fifties. We both loved children and wanted to teach them.”

And the world would have censured them. “I'm so sorry. That's not fair. Wasn't there any way?”

“If we wanted to lie. Pretend we were just roommates and friends. Live a life of deceit.”

Cassidy had learned how principled Ms. H was, so she knew that would have been impossible. “I can't believe how ignorant and prejudiced people were. I wish you'd been born in a different time.” Today, she and Irene could get married and have children of their own.

“Wishes like that are a waste of time,” she said briskly.

“True. Did you keep in touch with Irene?”

She shook her head. “It was too painful for both of us. When we graduated from the University of British Columbia, I got a job here and she went to teach in Nanaimo. We never contacted each other again.”

“Things are different now. Did you ever think of trying to track her down?”

Her brows rose in a schoolmarmish look. “I never took you for a romantic, Cassidy.”

“A romantic? Give me a break. I know the statistics about marriages breaking up. My parents
live
those statistics. I just thought, if you've never forgotten Irene, never fallen for anyone else, then who knows, maybe it's the same for her.”

“Would you like to calculate the odds of that?”

“You know perfectly well they're incalculable.” And yet there was a spark of interest in those blue eyes. So Cassidy pushed a little. There was nothing Ms. H liked more than a challenge. “You probably couldn't even find her. She could have moved a dozen times, she might have married and changed her name, anything's possible.”

“She might be dead,” she said softly.

“If so, wouldn't you like to know where she's buried or her ashes are scattered?”

Her landlady rose, took her cup and saucer to the counter, and began to rinse dishes and load the dishwasher.

Cassidy got up to help.

Ms. H glanced at her. “Do you know what I like about you?”

“Not a clue,” she said cheerfully.

“You were never my student.”

Cassidy processed that, then grinned. “They're too intimidated by you to act like adults around you.”

“Precisely.” She shot Cassidy a sideways glance. “However, they are better schooled in logical analysis.”

“Ouch. How much logical analysis can you teach a fourth grader? And what's so wrong with mine?”

“The fact that your parents epitomize the statistics on divorce does not mean that you're doomed to follow their example.”

“You can bet I won't, because I never intend to get married in the first place.”

“Then you'll turn out like me. Eighty-one, living alone, with only a handful of friends in my life to share an occasional meal.”

A sense of bleakness, loneliness, stole Cassidy's breath for a moment. She forced it away and said brightly, “Eighty-one? I'm not thinking about being eighty-one, or fifty, or even thirty-five. One day at a time, that's my way.”

Sunday morning, Dave finally got to sleep around five o'clock and woke a few hours later to find Merlin beside the bed, staring at him with a “take me out” plea in his eyes.

Dave groaned and threw on gym shorts and a tee, then took the dog downstairs for a run around the block. Often, on mornings when Robin wasn't there, he and Merlin would go several miles, but today he felt drained, physically and emotionally. It was just as well that his daughter was at Jessie and Evan's, yet he missed her and was glad she'd be back with him tonight.

As his shoes slapped the pavement and the poodle kept pace beside him, he wondered whether he was a good dad. Cassidy had suggested that he'd put his own needs ahead of his daughter's.

He could ask Jessie. Confess to even more failings as a father. She thought he was overprotective and they sometimes argued over what Robin could and couldn't do. But hell, he'd lost Anita, and then two summers ago, Robin had been hit by a car and could have died. That night had been sheer horror. No way could he bear the thought of losing his daughter.

And yet, while he'd been so busy protecting her body, had he put enough thought to her emotions? Her grief over Anita's death?

Going in the back door of the inn, he said to the dog, “Too short a run for you, pal. Sorry. Later, we'll go out with Malibu and meet up with Robin.” He got a brief bark in response.

Upstairs, Dave fed Merlin, showered, and dressed in his work clothes, and then the two of them went down to his office. His gaze went straight to the couch. No white-clad figure, just . . . He walked over and picked up a wilted, peach-colored blossom. As he lifted it to his nose, a hint of sweetness rose from it. Some crazy instinct kept him from tossing it out. Instead, he laid it on his desk beside the photo of Robin on Concha that he'd taken last summer. She was beaming.

He glanced at his office walls, where two of her horse drawings hung among various awards he and the Wild Rose had won. “She's happy, right?” he asked the dog.

Merlin, who'd gone to lie in his usual out-of-the-traffic-flow spot, glanced up, then put his head down to rest on his paws.

Cassidy was a free-spirited drifter. What did she know about raising kids, about commitment, about anything serious? And yet—

A knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. Brooke came in, cradling baby Nicki in a pouch-style sling. “Morning, Dave.”

“Hi.” He gave her a one-armed hug and dropped a kiss on the top of Nicki's dark curls. There was another thing he'd lost when Anita died. They'd planned to have a child or two. Rather than give in to the ache, he focused on Brooke. “You're here to pick up the presents?”

She nodded. “Jake got sidetracked by Mr. Bateman, who's telling him that the pedestrian-crossing light on the corner isn't long enough.”

“Yeah, like that's RCMP business.”

“Caribou Crossing is definitely an adjustment for Jake after years of undercover work.” She gazed up at him. “The Wild Rose did a great job of the reception.”

“Thanks to Madisun.”

“And you.” A pause, then, “Are you all right?”

“Sure. Why?”

“Sally left early.”

He stifled a groan. “How many times do I have to say that we're not dating?”

“You really aren't? I'm glad to hear that.”

“What?” Would he ever figure women out? “Didn't you say last month—the last time I said I wasn't dating Sally—that you were glad I was seeing someone?”

“Yes, but now I've met her.”

“You don't like her?” He felt offended on Sally's behalf.

“Oh, she seems nice enough, but she's not right for you.”

No, he wouldn't ask why.

That didn't stop Brooke. “She's too somber. You need someone sunnier.”

“I don't need anyone.” Only his daughter.

Was he being too needy when it came to Robin? He bit his lip. “Does Robin, uh . . .” Damn, it was hard to talk about this. “Does she ever say anything about Anita?”

Brooke's blue-green eyes widened. “Yes. She tells me about things the two of them did together, or the three of you did, or advice Anita gave her. She misses her. Uh, why do you ask?”

“I don't talk about her.”

“I know.” Her brow creased and she hugged Nicki closer to her chest. “I almost never talk about my ex-husband. That's because so many of the memories are bad. I wasn't a good person when I was with him. He wasn't a good person either. We both hurt Evan, and we hurt each other too. But with you and Anita, it's different. Your love for each other was so strong.”

“It's too painful,” he said quietly.

“If you don't talk about it, does the pain go away?”

It was the same question Cassidy had asked last night. He figured that Brooke, like Cassidy, knew the answer.

“Dave, we're friends. You've been there for me when I needed someone to talk to. I'd be happy to return the favor if you ever—” She broke off as Jake strode through the door.

With Brooke supervising, the men got the wrapped boxes and gift bags loaded into Jake and Brooke's SUV. Once Nicki was stowed in her car seat, Jake climbed in the driver's side.

Brooke rested a hand on Dave's arm, stretched up to kiss his cheek, and murmured, “The offer's open. Any time.”

“Thanks.”

Right now, the person he really needed to talk to was his daughter. It would be tough. Really tough, for him. But if it made things easier for Robin, he had to do it.

And maybe he could use a little moral support. Or maybe he just wanted to see Cassidy.

Back in his office, he texted Robin to call him when she got a chance.

She phoned promptly. “Hey, Dad. I'm just mucking out stalls.”

“That's why they pay you the big bucks.” He took a breath. “It's still good if I ride over to meet you later, and you stay here for a few days?”

“Sure.”

“I wondered if you'd like me to invite Cassidy along for the ride. And after, the three of us could maybe make pizza and watch a DVD. If she's free.” Cassidy had never been to his and Robin's suite, and inviting her felt like a big step. Toward what, he had no clue.

“Cool!”

Wishing his own feelings were as uncomplicated, Dave dialed Cassidy next.

 

 

Midafternoon, Dave walked to Westward Ho! with Merlin striding eagerly beside him. Sometimes Dave thought the poodle's feet were spring-loaded, he had such a bounce, as if moving through the world was pure pleasure. Dave's own feet dragged, not just from lack of sleep. Cassidy was meeting him at the stable. What the hell was he going to say to her?

When he saw her walking toward him, she was a sight for sleep-deprived eyes. Her trim body was clothed in her usual riding garb of jeans, boots, and straw cowboy hat, together with a well-worn Western-style shirt he hadn't seen before. He'd learned that she got most of her wardrobe from Days of Your. No brand-new shirt could have suited her better than this trimly fitted one, its faded denim making her blue-gray eyes even brighter in her olive-skinned face. His gaze skimmed down the snap-button front. Oh yeah, Western shirts were the best. If you hooked your hands in both sides at the top and tugged gently, the buttons popped, one by one.

Should he be having that thought about Cassidy?

There would never be another Anita, but did that mean he'd never have sex again? The prospect of decades of celibacy wasn't appealing. Maybe the women in his life were right; it was time for casual dating. With Cassidy? She didn't want a serious relationship, didn't plan to stay in Caribou Crossing for long, so she was safe. She wouldn't have unrealistic expectations.

And that was all very logical, but the truth was, she was the one woman who attracted him, on so many levels.

“Hey, Dave.”

“Hey,” he said warily. With her, he never knew what to expect. He just hoped she wouldn't poke at him. He'd had way too little sleep to cope.

She gave him a smile as sunny as the sky. “What a beautiful afternoon for a ride. I'm glad you and Robin invited me.” Bending, she gave the dog's coat an enthusiastic scrub with both hands. “Hey there, Merlin. How's my beautiful boy?”

Happy to see her, from the way he squirmed and tried to lick her. Dave tried not to envy his dog. If he wanted, he could have Cassidy's hands on his body. She'd made that clear last night. Damn, he was confused. “Let's get our horses ready,” he said gruffly.

On their first ride, Cassidy had bonded with Cherry Blossom and since then she booked the mare whenever possible. Cassidy had quickly learned how to care for her horse and put on the saddle and bridle. She related well to horses and had proved to be a natural on horseback.

Ten minutes later, he and Malibu, Cassidy and Cherry, and an ecstatic Merlin were on the road. Cassidy was unusually quiet. It occurred to him that she might be worried that she'd pissed him off enough last night that it would cost her her job. But surely she knew he wouldn't have invited her to go riding if he planned to fire her. Or might she think he intended to tell her today, rather than have her report to work on Monday only to be fired?

Here was a prime reason he shouldn't get involved with her. Staffing issues were complicated enough when they didn't involve personal relationships.

“Dave?” Her voice broke into his thoughts. “That scowl may chase the sun away.”

He forced himself to relax his face. “If you're worried I'm going to fire you, I'm not.”

She nodded. “I didn't think so, but it's good to know for sure.”

Curious, he tilted his head. “Why didn't you think so?”

“You're too smart for that.”

Her cheeky grin won a reluctant one from him. “Yeah, I guess. Anyhow, I heard you last night, what you said about Robin. Can we leave it at that?”

“Yes.”

He gave a relieved sigh. But he should have known better because she added, “For now.”

“Good Lord, what
is
it with you women? See, this is something I like about Sally. When we talk, it's about Ryland Riding or the Wild Rose. Not about . . .”

“Feelings?” she teased. “Well, that proves it. Sally is just plain unnatural. Every woman talks about feelings.”

“Then talk to each other,” he grumbled, “and leave me out of it.” Yet a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. Speaking of
feelings
, Cassidy Esperanza sure did mess with his. She could make him mad one moment, then have him grinning the next.

For the rest of the ride, they spoke little, and it was an easy, companionable silence.

When they arrived at Riders Boot Camp, Jessie was in the stable yard doing orientation with a new batch of students. She waved hello and he and Cassidy waved back as Robin untied Concha from a hitching rail and mounted.

As the three horses and riders, along with Merlin, moved out of the yard, Robin said, “Let's ride to Colcannon Lake.”

As they rode, the tiredness and tension eased from Dave's bones. A good horse, beautiful country, and, most of all, his daughter well and happy. Yes, he'd lost Anita, but he still had a lot to be thankful for. With a start, he realized that he actually
felt
thankful, even happy. Since Anita's death he had often reminded himself of his blessings, yet his emotions had felt disengaged as if he was seeing the good stuff in his life through a gray fog. But today the sun shone through that fog. And damn, it felt good.

When they reached Colcannon Lake, Cassidy exclaimed with pleasure. The spot was indeed scenic: deep blue water sparkling in the sun, surrounded by scattered trees and rock formations. On one side, a narrow road fed into a gravel parking lot, but Robin and Concha led the way to the side that was accessible only on horseback or by foot. On this Sunday afternoon, they had it to themselves. Across the lake, families and groups of teens splashed and picnicked, their happy sounds carrying across the still water.

While the riders dismounted, Merlin made for a strip of coarse-sand beach and plunged into the water. The dog loved to swim. Dave wished Robin had revealed her plans earlier, so they could have brought bathing suits and joined him.

Cassidy bent to remove her boots and he stared at her shapely rear. Cassidy in a bikini . . . Now that was dangerous territory. He forced his gaze away from her assets and concentrated on pulling off his own boots and socks, then rolling his pant legs. He joined Robin and Cassidy on a tumble of large rocks where they could sit and dangle their feet in the cool water.

Cassidy pulled off her hat and peeled off her shirt, revealing a yellow tank top. She braced herself on her arms and tilted back, lifting her face to the sun. “What a perfect place.”

“What's your favorite place, of everywhere you've been?” Robin asked.

“I don't play favorites. I go somewhere, enjoy what's to be enjoyed, and then move on. But right now, if you made me pick, I'd have to say Caribou Crossing ranks high on the list.”

“It's the best,” his daughter asserted. “I've been to the Big Apple, and it's really cool, but this is better.”

Cassidy straightened and gazed at her with surprise. “You've been to New York City?”

“Evan lived there for ten years. He took Mom and me for a visit. We rode in Central Park, went up the Empire State Building, and saw ‘The Lion King' on Broadway.”

“Nice,” she said.

“We had brunch with my Facebook pal Caitlin and her family at the Waldorf Astoria. And we had dinner with the Vitales, who're board members at Boots.”